


Feline Fancies

by WorryinglyInnocent



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Cats, F/M, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Rumbelle - Freeform, the aristocats - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18028847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorryinglyInnocent/pseuds/WorryinglyInnocent
Summary: Mr Gold absolutely does not have a crush on the librarian. Never mind the fact that his cat is openly flirting with hers.Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: “One rule: no falling in love”





	Feline Fancies

“We have established a fairly relaxed routine in this home, and I permit you to get away with a lot despite feeding and occasionally housing you, but there is one rule: no falling in love.”

The object of this address paid Gold’s stern voice no heed whatsoever. He wasn’t exactly surprised, after all, he was talking to a cat that went where it pleased and certainly did not consider itself to be owned by anyone, let alone be in a position to be receiving pep talks from the person who owned it in name only.

Gold sighed. He didn’t know why he bothered. Well, deep down he did, but he wasn’t ready to admit that to anyone yet, including himself. So, he used the excuse that approaching middle age and empty nest syndrome had sent him entirely mad, which was certainly the impression that the outside observer would have received if they had looked in through his kitchen window to see him talking to a thoroughly uninterested cat.

O’Malley gave no indication of having heard anything Gold had just said, and he resumed washing his paws with an intense devotion to task that Gold was sometimes able to replicate himself when he found a particularly interesting antique to restore.

“I really don’t know why I bother,” he muttered. “If you end up getting your heart broken, don’t come crying to me about it.”

Although O’Malley was a cat and had no concept of heartbreak in the same way that Gold did, Gold had unfortunately seen many of his own traits in his pet, and he was holding out a feeble hope of being able to live somewhat vicariously through the ginger tom. Like Gold, O’Malley was irritable and anti-social, and aloof in all respects (except when he wanted food, when he became the world’s most docile lap cat). Neal had found O’Malley in the garden, an injured stray, five years ago, and he had become a part of the family furniture ever since, even if he did have a tendency to disappear for days on end.

It was only recently that Gold had found out where O’Malley went during his extended absences. He had been coming out of the library – a place he was frequenting with increasing regularity himself – when he had seen the distinctive flash of an orange tail race up the stairs towards the caretaker’s apartment on top of the library.

Intrigued by this furtive movement, Gold had followed him up, only to find O’Malley sitting on the windowsill making eyes at the fluffy white cat on the other side of the glass. The new librarian, it seemed, had a cat, which had caught O’Malley’s eye in the same way as the librarian herself had caught Gold’s.

By warning O’Malley away from the feline femme fatale, what Gold was actually doing was telling himself not to let his own heart be lost to Miss French. She was young and beautiful and lively and happy, everything that he was not, and there was no way that she could ever be interested in a grumpy old man like him. There was no way that her chic indoor Angora would ever be interested in a scrappy semi-stray like O’Malley.

O’Malley, however, did not seem to be letting such pessimism put him off his stride, and Gold wondered if he perhaps ought to take a leaf out of the cat’s book. Maybe it was time to be positive for once in his life.

Of course, there were several obstacles to this approach. For a start, it was over twenty years since Gold had last been in the dating game, and courtship had moved on a lot in the intervening time. He wouldn’t have the first clue on how to start a conversation with Miss French that wasn’t based on a librarian to patron or landlord to tenant interaction. He was almost about to give it up as a bad job before he’d even begun, until O’Malley finished cleaning his paws and sauntered out through the cat flap with the swaggering air of a cat who had never had to deal with rejection before.

The sight buoyed Gold’s confidence a little. If a cat could do it, he could. Couldn’t he?

Watching O’Malley vanish off down the garden in the direction of the library, Gold had the beginnings of an idea. Although he and Miss French might not have a lot in common, he knew one thing that they shared.

Grabbing his coat and cane, he set off following O’Malley out into town. Perhaps they looked a bit strange the pair of them, striding off with purpose to meet the objects of their affections in the same place, both man and cat on a mission. It was early evening and the library would have closed for the day, but naturally O’Malley had no notion of such concepts as opening hours and socially acceptable times to call on paramours, and he sauntered up the steps and leapt up onto the living room windowsill, calm as you please.

Gold stopped at the bottom of the steps, beginning to get cold feet. Speaking to Miss French in the library was one thing. Speaking to her in her own home was quite another. O’Malley was inconspicuous in that he was a cat. Gold, however, would be intruding a little more. Perhaps it was best to leave things until the morning and find her in more neutral circumstances.

He was about to turn around and go back home when O’Malley decided his course of action for him. It was a warm evening, the beginning of summer finally coming to Storybrooke after months of rain, and the window was open slightly. O’Malley popped one paw into the gap and pushed the window up a little before wriggling through the gap. Gold stayed frozen at the bottom of the steps, wondering what to do then. He could just leave and pretend that nothing had happened, after all, O’Malley wasn’t officially his cat and Miss French could just as easily think he was a stray who’d managed to get inside her apartment. On the other hand, O’Malley had just handed him the perfect opportunity to speak to her, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say that the cat had planned it.

Gold took a deep breath and made his way up the stairs, pausing again before knocking on the door. Miss French opened it a moment later, looking rather taken aback to see him standing there.

“Oh, hello Mr Gold. I wasn’t expecting you here. Is there a problem with the rent?”

“No, no, it’s nothing to do with the rent.” He peered into the flat behind her, trying not to look like he was snooping. He could see O’Malley in the small kitchen area with the white Angora, tucking into a bowl of cat food. The cheeky little blighter. “You, erm, you’ve got my cat.”

“Oh, is he yours?” Miss French opened the door wider and stepped back to let him come inside. “He’s been turning up regular as clockwork for three weeks now. I thought he was a stray, but he looked too well cared for to have been outside for very long. He doesn’t have a collar.” There was a note of admonishment in her voice.

“Well, O’Malley’s not strictly mine,” Gold admitted. “He was a stray when we found him, and he’s got a roaming instinct. It’s highly unlikely that he’s actually called O’Malley. But I feed him, and I often find him curled up in front of the kitchen radiator.”

“It’s nice to know he has a home.” Belle went into the kitchen, side-stepping the two cats as they finished their meal and came out into the living area. “Would you like a cup of tea now that you’re here? You know, I probably shouldn’t be feeding him as much if he has another source of food. He’s a chunky boy.”

Gold nodded; he already gave O’Malley far more treats than was healthy in an attempt to keep the cat coming back to the good life so that Gold could have a little companionship during his days now that Neal had gone to college. He looked over at the two cats as Miss French brought over a cup of tea that he hadn’t had chance either to accept or decline.

“They seem very taken with each other.”

“Yes. I wasn’t sure how Duchess would react when he first turned up at the window, because she’s an indoor cat and she hasn’t really had any interaction with others before. But they’re very happy together.”

O’Malley and Duchess were now curled up in the easy chair together, leaving Gold and Miss French sitting on the small sofa in awkward proximity.

“She’s spayed, so don’t worry. I won’t be turning up on your doorstep with a bunch of little orange and white kittens demanding maintenance money.”

Gold couldn’t help but give a snort of laughter at the image, which quickly turned into a cough when he thought about it some more and realised just how adorable the image of Miss French with her arms full of fuzzy kittens was. Or, more pertinently, just how adorable Miss French herself was, with or without the kittens.

“Mr Gold? Is everything ok?”

Gold nodded, at a complete loss for what to say next, and he returned his attention to the two cats. This would be the perfect opportunity to ask her out. They were sitting right here, and he had the cats as a perfect lead-in. All he had to do was actually pluck up the courage to say something instead of just sitting here like an idiot.

“You know…” Miss French tailed off, looking down at her shoes awkwardly. She seemed to be feeling exactly the same kind of thing that he was feeling, although it couldn’t be because she was trying to ask him out, could it?

“You know…” he echoed.

“Well, I was thinking, since the cats are getting to know each other quite well…”

“…maybe we could get to know each other too?” Gold suggested, blurting out the words before he could second-guess himself. Miss French just looked at him and he felt his shoulders sag. “Or not.”

“No, no. I would like that. That’s exactly what I was going to say myself.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, I agree. With what I just said.” He buried his face in his hands. “This is terrible, I should just stop talking.”

Miss French laughed. “No, keep going. I think it’s cute.”

Had she just said that he was cute?

“Would you like to get dinner some time, Miss French?”

She nodded. “I’m free tonight, if you are? And please, call me Belle.”

He was definitely free tonight. He was always free.

“Ok… Belle. That sounds good.”

“Great!” She grabbed her coat and made towards the door, giving a final fond look over her shoulder at the two cats curled up in the easy chair. “You know, I’m very glad that O’Malley started coming over. I might never have got the chance to talk to you otherwise.”

Gold whole-heartedly agreed with the sentiment.


End file.
